Charley's drawers...actual drawers not pants Dad-6 Mom-3

First I'd like to welcome my newly homeliving friend Aubrey to the blogging world (TalesFromTheVille.tumblr.com). Good stuff.

I came across this issue the other day and I hesitated posting it because it didn't exactly shine a good light on myself. Biased media...yup. But after enough Law and Order episodes I was able to convince myself beyond a reasonable doubt that I could blame this on Mom.

So I decided the other day to clean out four (4) of my drawers in my dresser out of boredom I guess. Not long ago Tommy cleaned out his closet and found some real treasures of stuff Mom saved for him like a STH prom '97 photo order form. I hoped I would get something half as good. After a physical struggle just to get them open from being over stuffed I began the sorting. What I saw next will forever change the frequency with which I throw crap out. Some of the highlights of the gems I found include, but are not limited to:

• Movie stubs- ranging from the first Harry Potter to Firewall to Mulan. Yes the original theatrical debut of Mulan.
• Pokemon cards- At least they weren't in any kind of protective casing so thats ok right?
• Half a dollar- not 50 cents, but a dollar torn in half.
• A coupon given to all 8th graders for a free ice cream sandwich at the St. Thomas More cafeteria.
  
• Every birthday card ever given to me. Heres a brief synopsis of every card I received during the middle school grades. Front of card: birthday cake with a lit fuse. Inside of card: "hope your birthday is a blast!" Then simply writing your name. Not even a signature. Just writing it.
  
• An instruction manual to Frogger on Gameboy. Do you really need a whole booklet of instructions to play Frogger.
• A napkin from the Imperial Palace Casino in Biloxi, Mississippi. We stayed in a suite I believe...

and lastly

• My Beanie Babies Club Charter Member card. I was a gold card member.
  

So the question may arise as to how this is Mom's fault. Well Mom, from a young age, as forced upon me the idea of saving crap. I would not have done that on my own, hence I cannot be held liable. Question me if you will Jack McCoy, but just one reader and I can get a hung jury.

So thanks to Mom, I have a lot more drawer space and a poor understanding of the law. Dad-6 Mom-3...Charley 1/2.

Pizza...30 minutes or its...time to keep waiting Dad-6 Mom-2

Sorry its been like a week since I've written one, but I've been pretty bogged down at home with not working. Its a real drain. But since then I've got another look for you into the Tauer house.

In case you aren't aware, my father is about 5'8, red hair, and not entering an iron man contest this or next week. However, he feels his mere presence is intimidating enough to speed up a pizza order.

No one in our family is especially patient, but when it comes to some things, like ordering a pizza, I understand that a certain time commitment is part of the deal. Its an unwritten contract with every pizza place in the world. You take an hour and I undertip. Thats the system. Like the movie theaters; you overcharge, I treat the floor around me like a dumpster. The circle of life.

My father however, has a different method to circumvent the system.

Normal person: Call pizza place, order pizza, wait for it to be delivered or go down the street and pick it up yourself.
Dad Tauer: Call pizza place, ask if they are making pizzas today, go to pizza place and order in person, stand there and stare at the high school kid working there until pizza is in hand.

Now I'm not sure if his goal is to have them just cook one the minute he orders it and hand it to him, or them to give him someone else's pizza. But either way he's going in and staring them down until he gets a pizza.

So the moral of the story is Dad missed 3/4 of CSI: Miami, and 45 minutes later returned home with a pizza.

But boy was it covered in pepperoni! Dad takes a slice for a 6 to 2 lead

World's greatest pineapple Dad-5 Mom-2

I found out that while I was out of town this past weekend, Dad pulled one of his little pet projects up. He earned a point.

Three years ago I was leaving Houston again to start at A&M. Three years ago my laptop had a battery life longer than a bathroom break. And three years ago Dad was planting the top of an eaten pineapple into a flower pot in the back yard.

Houston, Texas- 2006 We just finished eating a nice fresh pineapple from the grocery store. Dad decides that planting the leafy top in a flower pot would then grow another pineapple.

It is now 2009. Dad was right. Pineapple plant successfully grew in the backyard. We had the worlds weirdest looking and smallest pineapple just pulled up from the backyard.

It took 3 years, but Dad grew a pineapple in the backyard. I'm looking forward to our next hula out in the tropical grove of our backyard.

Unfortunately I wasn't able to try a piece of the softball sized pineapple. The first few bites proved to be the last.

I hear it was tasty though.

Dad -5 Mom-2

Rude Sandwich Dad-4 Mom-2

I think I was overlooking some of Mom's more subtle point worthy actions, while I only noticed Dad's in face ones. This one couldn't be overlooked though.

Mom is apparently our own local Ask Abby on etiquette because she has really taught me a thing or two. I have learned that anything, ANYTHING, can be rude.

I had just finished making a glorious sandwich with a sauce I made myself (mayo, creole mustard, hot sauce), turkey, ham, and salami. It was delish. I put it on a plate along with some chips and went to sit down and eat. Mom then informed me I was being rude, by not cutting the sandwich in half. "Rude." Not a typo. Not a misunderstanding. I didnt mishear her call me a "rube" as if we were in the 1940s, or point out "food!" It was rude.

I was obviously confused, but she pointed out to me that it is apparently rude of me to be holding an entire sandwich.

I wish I could offer a better explanation for you, but I dont have one.

Mom points out that Dads expanding lead was rude, and forces him to to slow down while she caught up a little. Dad-4 Mom-2

Koozies Dad-4 Mom-1

Dont worry about Mom folks...she is bound to make a comeback soon. There are lots of upcoming opportunities for her. But for now Dad is just hot hot hot.

My father has an unhealthy obsession with koozies (sp?). He is the one they have in mind when every marketing office calls up and orders them by the gross.

Most of us know koozies for the occasional use at a tailgate for a refreshing beverage, or...thats all I can really think of. My dad takes it to a new level. He uses koozies for cokes cans, bottles, water bottles, Propel bottles, anything. Not only will he use them for drinks to keep them cold, and to keep your hand warm, but he will essentially use them as mobile cup holders.

My dad will take about half a dozen koozies in his golf bag for drinks and then to hold a couple bags of trailmix or peanuts.

His car is a smattering of everything from the Pearl Bar to Blackhorse Limo, to Texas A&M Career Services.

Christmas is around the corner and I'm thinking a nice bundled packaged of a couple dozen koozies would be the gift of the century.

Dad doesnt necessarily keep his cool, but his drinks and peanuts will always be kept that way. 4-1

Microwave issues Dad-3 Mom-1

So there are 3 things I've noticed that Dad does with the microwave that I'm 99% sure is unique. Maybe some people do one of them, but I am very confident no one else does all 3.

1) 6 and a half minutes in a microwave is enough time to cook a thanksgiving dinner. However, Dad will enter a time similar to that to microwave anything. A leftover bowl of mashed potatoes, toaster strudel, anything. I will go in to mike something after him and find 2:13 left on the screen and see him walk away with a couple popsicles. Which leads me to #2...

2) My father microwaves popsicles. I've heard of some people microwaving ice cream to soften it up before scooping it out. But Dad does it to popsicles. He finds them too cold. Nothing like warming up ice to make it more palatable.

3) He also no longer closes the microwave door. He has a theory that microwaves only have a certain number of opens and closes in their lifetime. He will open the door, remove the food, then not close it until he puts more food in it. Whether that be later that day, night, or the next day.

I should remind you that these stories aren't embellished in anyway because...sadly...they need no embellishing.

Dad is now churning his feet and throwing up dust Flintstones style as he prepares to pull away from Mom on this stretch. Dad-3 Mom-1

Making croutons...not for people Dad-2 Mom-1

So I considered giving Dad two points for this one because it is especially strange, but he is without a doubt in the lead...the only question is how much.

Dad, while running the arboretum in our backyard, noticed that some of the bigger birds or squirrels would take big chunks of bread he left out as food, leaving little to nothing for the smaller birds. He decided that this is unacceptable and wants equality for all in the Tauer backyard.

So my father now takes the "leftover" bread like the nubs or whatevers left in a loaf when we get a new one and breaks it up before putting it out. Sounds normal enough, until you realize he has spent hourS (with an S!) cutting bread with scissors into small cubes to give to the birds.

I walk through the den to see him sitting, watching tv, meddling with bread and just ask "whatcha doin?" and I get the reply "cuttin' bread." Brilliance in its brevity.

There is now a semi-permanent mixing bowl of home made croutons on the kitchen counter waiting to be given to birds in the backyard. This way all the birds, big or small, can have a shot at that bread. True equality in the bird world.

Look to the cookie...(for those not picking up on the Seinfeld reference, google it).

Dad takes the inside curve and takes the lead back from Mom. Dad-2, Mom-1.

Online shoes Dad-1 Mom-1

So I'll be honest...I didn't expect this to be a very fair race. Every handicapper in Vegas as well as everyone who has met the Tauers would probably have put the morgage on Dad, but alas Mom will not go down without a fight.

Mom got a package in the mail with some clothes she bought online at Macys.com. This is fairly normal so I didn't think anything of it until I noticed she had bought shoes.

I don't buy clothes online myself but I can understand buying most everything with the exception of shoes. Pants...I have a pants size and can buy that size. I can also see all the components of the pants from the website like the existence of legs or the texture and material. Shirts...I wear the same size and I can see all the elements of the shirt from the internet picture. Sleeve, collar, color, etc.

With shoes...every damn brand has a different scale of sizes and it is the most crucial item to your comfort. Thats why they typically encourage you to try them on and walk around. "How do they feel? Take them out for a spin...make a controlled turn at the end of the isle and come back and stand in front of the 1 foot mirror at the base of the bench" Ya know...typical shoe things.

But when you buy shoes online you don't get any of that. Mom bought two pairs from Macy's online. Macy's has a location within 5 miles of our house. Three within 10 miles. But the computer is within 10 feet so I guess Mom wins.

Oh and on an unrelated note she is returning both pairs because one is "too high" and the other "doesn't cover her toe cracks."

Mom pulls even in the race.

"Red lights aren't for me" Dad-1 Mom-0

So I've realized that this race to the finish between Mom and Dad is not going to be a sprint as both are far cries from Usain Bolt. This, as Seinfeld said, is going to be a lengthier process "like knocking over a vending machine...you have to rock it back and forth a few times. THEN it goes over." Welcome to the decathlon.

I decided to get out of the house and away from my Home Improvement routine a little and go for a cruise with Dad as we went to pick up a family size meal from KFC for the 2 of us. We were sitting at a red light when Dad decided he had enough waiting...so he just went. Amidst my confusion he clarified the situation for me by declaring "Red lights aren't for me."

I am going to start keeping an eye on the mail to see how many red light camera tickets he is racking up without anyone knowing. I wonder if red light tickets are for him?

Dad has burst out of the gates in the lead with his treatment of red lights like stop signs.